who'd have believed you'd come along
by Quicklove202
Summary: Circus AU. In which daredevil Noah Puckerman falls for his troupe's new star, Quinn Fabray, the one girl who won't call him "Puck".


**AN: So it's been a while since I've written anything PQ, like a _long_ while. But I've had this idea for months now and have been writing little bits here and there whenever something came to me. I needed a break from the story I've been currently working on, so I decided to take this one of the back burner and finish it up. **

**It's pretty long but when I write for two characters I love, things usually tend to get out of hand, so you'll just have to deal with it. Hopefully it's not boring or anything. Tried to make it fun and cute and whatnot. **

**So yeah...this takes place in a circus. It's Puck/Quinn. AU, obviously. And that's all you really need to know. Oh well that and I borrowed some things from _Water for Elephants_, so that's not mine. Nor is Glee.**

**As always, read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

"Son of a bitch!"

Puck staggers backward as a stinging pain shoots through the length of his arm. He hobbles around for a few seconds, shaking out his hand, and continues to release a long string of profanities.

Taking a hold of his left wrist, he glowers back at the five hundred pound lion who could have cared less about his pain. "You motherfucker. You're lucky I don't skin your ass and turn you into a floor rug."

The lion - appropriately named Rex due to his T-Rex like teeth - quickly gets to his feet and Puck instinctively jerks back before that large ass cat can maul his stud face.

He looks over at the blonde so-called 'lion tamer' he considered a friend. "Remind me again why I chose to help your sorry ass with something I know _nothing_ about?"

"You're the one who said you could do it." Sam responds, doing his best to stifle his laughter. While he goes to lock the door on Rex's cage, Puck steps aside, still shaking out his hand as if it would help get rid of the pain faster.

"You're the one who said clipping a lion's nail was no big deal - that _anyone_ with thumbs could do it."

"What'd you do memorize everything I said?" Puck snaps, irritated. He glances down at the back of his hand again, which now had four bright red claw marks deeply sliced into the skin.

That shit was definitely gonna scar.

He lifts his head and meets Sam's gaze. "Anyone asks I got this saving your ass from becoming a chew toy."

Stalking out of the menagerie tent, Puck advances through the campsite, intent on heading back to his trailer so he can wash his hand before it gets infected, goes gang green on him, and his whole hand falls off entirely.

He can't ride a motorcycle with just one hand.

Though it would be pretty cool to have a hook for a hand - or better yet, he could get a robotic one like in Star Wars.

Now _that'd_ be badass.

He'd be like a cyborg. Like Terminator.

Distracted by these thoughts, he doesn't even realize anyone's coming his way until he nearly runs down Mrs. Hudson - the boss's wife and the head lady chick in charge of costumes; she's also his best bro's mom.

And fortunately for him, the woman's like a regular mother hen so the second she sees his hand, she takes it upon herself to get him patched up.

Not that he minds.

If it was anyone else he'd tell them to buzz off but around here she's like the closest thing he got to a mother. So yeah, he's definitely not gonna tell her to beat it.

Plus he knows for a fact she's got Avengers band-aids in her first aid kit (And they don't get any more awesome than that).

She just better give him the ones with Iron Man on 'em.

—

Mrs. Hudson ends up wrapping his hand in a gauze; Puck waits until her back is turned before he purposefully nicks himself with his swiss army knife.

Five minute later he walks out of the Hudson-Hummel trailer with a grin on his face, sporting a red and gold band aid on his forearm like a boss.

—

Puck advances through the campsite, easily maneuvering his way around the hordes of workers taking props and guiding animals here and there.

The world he lived in was a hell of a lot different compared to the one he grew up in. He's been with the circus for a while now but some days he still found it hard to believe that _this_ was his life.

Less than a year ago he was barely graduating high school, where he spent most of his time throwing kids in dumpsters, ditching class, and fucking hot girls.

He played varsity football and was one of the best players on the team, but that wasn't saying much considering how badly they sucked. So getting recruited wasn't gonna happen. Not that he gave a flying rat's ass about college anyways.

School was for chumps.

Lucky for him, Finn - his best bro since like _ever_ - didn't have any interest in college either. Neither one of them knew what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives, but they did know one thing: they weren't about to stay in Ohio and turn into those same 'Lima losers' they'd made fun of all their lives.

_That's_ when the circus rolled into town. Literally.

He didn't even know about it (after all who even gives a damn about _the circus _anymore?) and wouldn't have if it hadn't been for Finn's ma who one day forced him and her son to take her to see one of the shows.

Next thing Puck knows the ringmaster, Burt Hummel, is sweeping Mrs. H off her feet like some kind of old man baseball cap wearing Prince Charming.

Finn wasn't exactly cool with having a new stepfather - or a stepbrother - but when talk came up about how the troupe traveled all over the country and Burt offered him and Puck jobs, he wasn't about to pass up on the opportunity to get out of Lima for good.

Neither was Puck.

They now worked as daredevil stuntmen, driving their motorbikes in a caged sphere, jumping through rings of fire, and doing other crazy ass stunts that were _awesome._

At first they hadn't known what the hell they were doing (they rode dirt bikes for like _one_ summer growing up, then quit) but they were master bullshitters so they were able to get by until they figured out some kind of an act.

And while he's really grown to love his new job, deep down Puck knows traveling around with a circus was not how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

He wasn't like everyone else here. He didn't eat, sleep, and breathe his craft. He enjoyed his job for sure, but he wasn't born with that same drive the rest of the performers here had to entertain. He honestly wished he did though. It'd make things a lot simpler.

"Puck! Hey, wait up!"

Puck, recognizing the voice of his 'brother from another mother' anywhere, stops and waits for Finn to catch up to him.

"Sup man." he greets, with his usual chin nod. "Just get up?" He guesses, noting the serious case of bed head his friend still had.

"Yeah." Finn nods sheepishly, now walking along side him. He looks over at Puck and frowns. "What happened to your hand?"

Puck glances down at it briefly. "Saved Evans from being swallowed whole by Rex." he says casually. "You know, the usual."

Finn just laughs. "Cool."

When they reach the big white tent where all the meals are held, Puck pushes aside the flap and ducks inside. They're both starving so they don't waste anytime heading over to the spread of food.

Puck shoves an eggo into his mouth while he piles on the hash browns; Finn goes straight for the pastries.

"Could you two jugheads try _not_ to hog all the food?"

Appearing from out of nowhere behind them - a skill both Puck and Finn are convinced she traded her soul for - Santana, one of the acrobats (and one half of the Brittana Extravanza!), rudely pushes her way in between them to get to some eggs.

It's no surprise to Puck that the girl whose name you can't spell without 'Satan' likes to start her morning off by eating a plateful of unborn baby chicks.

"So you two losers catch a glimpse of the new girl yet?" she wonders, throwing a couple of biscuits onto her plate.

Finn's brow furrows. "New girl?" he repeats, his mouth partially filled with a cinnamon bun.

Santana nods, rolling her eyes briefly. "Yeah. Our new _star attraction_." she retorts, with no traces of disdain whatsoever.

"Oh right." Finn nods, now remembering. "Burt mentioned we were getting someone in from New Haven at last week's meeting."

Puck wouldn't know. He never showed up to those lame ass group meetings. Not unless Finn dragged him to them by order of Burt.

"What's she like?" Finn asks out of curiosity, continuing down the buffet table.

"A little uptight." Santana responds easily, snatching up the last banana. "Berry already feels threatened by her so we'll see how long she lasts."

Finn chuckles slightly. "Yeah, Rachel doesn't too well with competition."

Puck rolls his eyes at the mention of the singing tightrope performer. He lost interest in this conversation like…well he never had any interest in it to begin with, so he's just gonna grab some OJ and bounce.

—

The days pass and he still has yet to see this so-called new 'star attraction' that has the whole troupe abuzz. Apparently she was introduced to everyone at one of Burt's meetings, but Puck had been too busy screwing some random groupie to bother showing up.

"Guys! Places please!" Burt's voice rings out above the others.

Ever since his heart attack, he'd retired from the ringmaster position (passing the job onto his son Kurt) but since he was still in charge, he still made sure everyone got their shit together before show time.

Waking alongside Finn, Puck pushes his bike toward their designated place in line. As usual they're right behind the trapeze artists, Blaine and Cooper, aka the Flying Anderson Brothers. And two spots ahead of them are the Warblers - a group of acapella (whatever the fuck that means) singers who doubled as fire breathers, jugglers, and sword swallowers.

The way Puck sees it they'd probably bag a lot more chicks if they weren't always singing those goddamn Katy Perry songs.

Throwing his leg over the side of his bike, Puck sits down and looks over at Finn expectantly.

"So you wanna go into town after the show and grab some burgers or something?"

"Actually I have plans to watch a movie with Rachel."

Puck snorts. "You are so whipped."

"You can come if you want." Finn offers, feeling bad.

"And be the third wheel?" He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Yeah, _no thanks_."

Puck shakes his head. Whatever happened to bros before hoes?

"-you know what, Santana?"

"Berry so help me God. I will hit you so hard that you won't be able to wake up until you're old enough to be _Funny Lady_."

Despite the bustling going on everywhere around them, a person would have to be _real_ hard of hearing to not pick up on the shouting match going on across the way between Santana and Rachel.

Like two cats in a sack those two were. Always at each other's throats.

And right before every damn show, it felt like.

It'd be hot if it wasn't so fucking annoying.

"Uh-oh." Finn kicks down the brake stand and quickly gets off his bike. "I better go before-"

"OW!"

"…that." Wincing, Finn jogs on over to the two girls without a second thought, leaving Puck alone.

Puck just shakes his head and taps at his handlebars impatiently. He was so ready to get this thing over and done with.

"C'mon let's get a move on already!" he shouts to no one in particular, exasperated. He never understood why Burt had them line up so damn early when the audience was _still_ being ushered in.

"Take a chill pill, would you Puckerman?"

Puck glances behind him to see…okay, he should so know her name by now. Fuck.

"Buzz off, Aretha." he snaps. A second later her actual name comes to him.

Mercedes.

Right. Like the car.

"Shouldn't you be back in line with all the other elephants?" he piles on, smirking.

"Knock it off, Puck." Kurt warns, holding back his best friend with one hand. "C'mon, Mercedes." he sighs, tugging her along. "We don't have time for this. Remember? We still have that interview with Jacob Ben to do before the show."

Puck rolls his eyes. Ever since those two teamed up to be the show's new ringmaster duo, they've been considered a hot commodity in the circus world.

It's things like _that_ that seriously make him question his sanity for working in bizarro world. Back at McKinley chumps like that would've been thrown into dumpsters or given slushie facials, but here they're treated like D-List celebs.

—

Once him and Finn finish with their act, they ride over to their trailer and park their bikes next to it, under the tent - or makeshift garage as they like to call it.

Puck cuts the engine and pulls off his helmet, using his sleeve to wipe his brow.

"Here, man."

He turns his head just in time to catch the water Finn tosses to him.

"Thanks." He twists open the cap and doesn't hesitate in dumping the entire bottle over his head.

God damn was it hot.

He shakes out his head, water droplets flying everywhere, and idly throws away the empty bottle. He pulls off his flame retardant jersey next, then uses it to dry his neck.

"You okay man?"

Puck lifts his gaze and frowns questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Finn shrugs. "You've just been real quiet is all. Thought something might be up."

He pushes down the urge to roll his eyes. "Dude, just cause I don't spend every waking second talking to you like Rachel does doesn't mean anything's wrong. We may be both Jewish but it's not like we're all in love with the sound of our own voices like she is."

Finn raises his brow. "Wait, is this seriously about me not being able to hang out with you tonight?"

"Of course not." Puck scoffs. "What am I a girl? I've got like a hundred better things to do than hang out with you, Hudson. I'm up to my ears in hot chicks who would kill to take a ride on the Puckasaurus."

Finn sighs. "Look I'm sorry but I already promised Rachel." Apparently Frankenteen wasn't listening to a word he just said. "We can hang out tomorrow night. We can get pizza and beer, and play Call of Duty. I know we haven't played in a while, but..."

"Do you ever think about the future?" he blurts out, out of the blue.

Finn stops then blinks at him. "You mean like the Jetsons?"

Puck fights the urge to roll his eyes again. "No, man. I mean like life after this." He gestures around them. "Life after the circus."

"What do you mean?"

That time Puck can't help but roll his eyes. "Do you ever think about what you'd want to do after you, you know, get tired of this gig?"

"Who could ever get tired of this? Dude, we're living the life!" Finn exclaims with a smile. "We're out of Lima. We get paid to travel around the entire country for a living, see parts of the country we never even dreamed of seeing, we have awesome jobs where every night an arena filled with people scream and cheer for us like we're rock stars or something."

He gestures to himself then to Puck."I'm dating the girl who's gonna be my future wife someday and you said it yourself you're up to your ears in hot chicks. I mean what more could you ask for?"

Puck shifts uncomfortably. "Yeah but whatever happened to wanting to join the army? You know so you could honor your dad?"

During their senior year, Finn seriously considered joining up because of his father and Puck was all for it, figuring they'd be like those guys in Top Gun.

Then the circus came to town and those plans flew right out the window. At the time he couldn't have cared less, but now, well he has been thinking about the future lately so…

"Maybe, one day. I dunno man." Finn sighs, shrugging out of his jersey. "Things are going great here. Would you seriously give up all this to join the military?"

"I dunno." Puck shrugs. When they talked about joining the armed forces together, he actually looked into the different branches, and the Air Force always kind of appealed to him. "Maybe."

Finn laughs. "I think you're suffering from dehydration, man." he says, passing him another water. "The Puck I know would never in his right mind choose basic training over banging hot girls on a nightly basis. So drink up." Finn pats him on the shoulder before heading out. "I'll be back in time for curtain call."

Puck rolls his eyes as Finn runs off to undoubtedly find Rachel. "Later, dude." he says, even though by then no one's around to hear it.

Getting up off his bike, Puck grabs a clean shirt - or what he assumes is clean - off their garage sized toolbox and walks outside, throwing it on in the process.

Because he doesn't have a set destination in mind he ends up just walking around camp for a while trying to think of way to kill time.

In the end he decides to scope out tonight's audience for his next hook up buddy. Or _buddies_.

Smirking to himself, he heads over to the nearest entrance leading into to the Big Top. If he'd known just how hot and bothered the ladies got over badass daredevils, he would've run away with the circus _ages_ ago.

The show's in full swing when he gets there, but he doesn't give a damn about that. He's seen the show more times than he'll ever care to admit. Besides he wasn't hear to watch anyways.

Hopping over the railing, he plops himself down in one of the nearer aisle seats. He came at the just right time cause the clowns are on now which means no one will notice him checking out the hot babes in the stands.

He spends the next couple minutes glancing around and while he comes across a handful of girls good looking enough to approach after the show, none of them really peak his interest. They were all hot no doubt but they looked like every other smokin' girl he's ever met and conquered.

Man. What was wrong with him? If he was still sixteen he wouldn't be having these kind of thoughts. He never once used to _wonder_ if a hot girl was even worth bothering with.

"_Going after a hot girl isn't something you think about, it's something you just do." He used to tell Finn. "Like breathing or tossing nerds in the dumpster."_

As the audience claps for the clowns, Puck idly runs a hand over his head. Maybe he needs to get back to rockin' his signature mohawk (he'd only started to let his hair grow out because it felt like the mature thing to do now that he wasn't in high school anymore).

Maybe that was the key to getting back his sex shark mojo.

Sighing, he drops his hand and leans back in his seat. He looks on with disinterest, then eventually zones out altogether, as Kurt and Mercedes come out and do their MC bit before introducing the next act.

He has half a mind to just leave and almost does, but then the weirdest thing happens.

The lights dim - that's not the weird part - and this hypnotic music leaks out of the speakers (music he's never heard) and before Puck can even process what was going on, he finds the whole atmosphere of the arena changing before his very eyes.

Next thing he knows he's staring at the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life.

Like, for real. No joke. _The_ most beautiful.

It was impossible for him to take his eyes off her.

Seriously. He wasn't even sure he was still blinking.

In a matter of seconds she has everyone (and he meant _everyone_) in that arena entranced. Not just by her insane beauty, but by her talent too.

It quickly becomes clear to him why she was dubbed the 'star attraction'. She was easily the most talented and versatile performer in the troupe by far.

Rachel had the powerhouse voice and shined brighter than the sun for sure, but this girl…she _mesmerized_. She was untouchable.

And unlike Rachel, who just sang while balancing across a stupid wire, this girl incorporated everything into her act: trick horse riding, aerial silk, ballet, acrobatics…to things he wouldn't even know what to call.

The animals she worked with obeyed her every command; she didn't even half to speak to get them to do anything, they just did it. From the horses to the elephants she had with her in the ring, to the people in the audience - every single living thing was under this girl's spell.

Hell the world could be ending outside of the Big Top right at this very moment and no one would even bat an eye to it.

When her routine ends and the music fades, there's a moment of silence before the arena as a whole erupts in thunderous applause - the magnitude of which Puck's pretty sure has never been reached before.

If this had been somewhere classy like the opera or the ballet people would've been throwing roses at her feet.

Jesus fuckin' Christ.

Puck continues to stare down at the center ring in awe even long after she's gone.

Where the hell did that girl come from?

—

Walking back to the trailers, Puck still can't get over what he'd just witnessed.

That voice.

Those eyes.

That body.

It was like sensory overload.

That girl had the face of an angel and the grace and poise of a ballerina, but the presence of a siren.

Puck rounds the corner and instantly balks at the sight before him. Frankenberry was having a serious tongue war just outside of his and Finn's trailer. Gross. Just gross.

Shaking off the disgusting display of affection (if you could call it that) Puck, reluctantly, heads over to the two lovebirds and pries them apart.

"Dude!" Finn exclaims, shoving Puck's hand away when he drags him off to the side. "What the hell?"

"Dude!" he exclaims right back. He pushes at Finn's chest, irritated. "Why'd you never tell me that new girl was such a babe?"

He's pretty sure it's in the bro code somewhere that Finn's like obligated to tell him these kinds of things.

"Seriously?" Finn retorts, giving him an incredulous look. He starts shaking his head at him.

"_Seriously_, bro." Puck affirms. "I know you have a girl already but you can't deny that blonde is something else."

"C'mon man," Finn sighs heavily. "You know about Burt's rule."

Puck raises his eyebrows. "You mean the one about _'no intermingling amongst performers'_?" he quotes, rolling his eyes.

He shakes his head and exclaims, "You're dating Rachel!" He gestures to the girl still waiting patiently by the trailer. "Santana and Brittany have been hooking up for like _ever _and I'm pretty sure your new baby bro is seeing that flying Anderson brother. The short younger one." He assures after seeing Finn's eyes widen in horror. "Open your eyes Hudson, _everyone's_ screwing around with each other."

Finn exhales deeply before saying calmly, "This is different. Quinn's new here. You treat her like another meaningless hook up and she could leave."

Quinn. Not the kind of name he would have ever figured her to have, but it suits her.

Finn clasps his shoulder and turns them around, away from Rachel. "Look I don't know if you've seen what that girl can do, but she is _really_ talented."

He keeps his voice low and for good reason. If Rachel were to ever hear him call another girl 'talented', she might just pull a Sweeny Todd.

And yeah…he's definitely been hanging around these Broadway musical lovin' clowns for too long.

"Quinn could've had her pick of any company in the country and she chose ours." Finn continues.

"Yeah cause we're the best." he scoffs.

"Puck we _need_ her." Finn emphasizes seriously. "Since we added her to the troupe Burt says we've been selling out shows left and right."

No surprises there. That girl was amazing.

"And if, for _whatever_ reason," Finn shoots him a knowing glance. "She goes then so do all those paying customers who wanna see her. We can't have that, man. We're doing good for ourselves but we're not Ringling."

Puck fuckin' hates Ringling. Those fuckers.

He looks back at Finn. "So basically what you're saying is you want me to stay away from her."

Finn shakes his head at him. "I'd never ask you to do that, man."

Puck smiles appreciatively.

"Mainly because I know if I did you'd just do the opposite."

His smile fades into a frown. "Bro, give me a little credit would ya?" he says, going on the defensive. "I'm not that much of a horndog. I have self control."

Finn raises his brow. "So…you won't try and go after her?" he checks.

"I won't for the good of the troupe." Puck confirms with a nod. Finn looks relieved. "I'm all about being a team player, you know that." He pats Finn's shoulder assuringly before turning around to leave.

As he's walking away, he can't help but shake his head. Finn was so damn gullible. Like he'd ever _not_ go after a girl like Quinn. Especially now when the very image of her was practically burned into his skull.

Yeah, there was no way he wasn't going to at least try to get with her so… _sorry bro._

—

Puck waits until the show's over before heading on over to the menagerie tent. He doesn't know how much Sam knows about this Quinn girl, if anything, but as of right now the trouty mouth's his only option for getting the lowdown on her.

(If he tried to ask anyone else for intel they'd know right off the bat what he was up to and probably lecture him like Finn).

Pushing back the tent flap, Puck steps inside. He looks around, seeing no one right away. He stops and huffs. Sam had to be around somewhere. The guy practically lived here, where else would he be hanging around?

Shaking his head, he ducks out and decides to try his luck at the stables.

He no sooner strides inside than his body comes to a grinding halt. He'd found a blonde alright, but not the one he intended.

There, standing before him, was the girl who, no less than an hour ago, had an entire arena of people spellbound.

Honest to God he's not entirely sure whether his mind's playing tricks on him right now.

Hell this whole night might've just been one big illusion and she might just be some kind of figment of his imagination. What? It's possible.

But then again…Nah. He's not that creative.

Still frozen in the entryway, he watches her tend to her horses, completely unaware of his presence. She has the white one nibbling out of the palm of her hand and he can hear her softly talking to it but can't make out what exactly.

Once the horse finishes eating whatever it'd been that she'd given him, she cups the animal's muzzle and places a tender kiss in between his eyes. The horse makes a small grunt of approval and lightly nudges against her cheek, making her beam.

What he wouldn't give to be that horse.

Quickly realizing he should probably say something before she catches him being all silent and creepy, Puck clears his throat and steps forward.

"Uh, hey."

Startled, she sharply turns her head. "Hi," she greets back, somewhat warily.

"I was just looking for Sam." He takes another two steps, then stops and glances around. "You wouldn't happen to know where he went?"

She shakes her head apologetically. "No, sorry. Haven't seen him."

Her attention just about falls back to her horse, but he speaks up again before it can happen. He doesn't want to miss his window. "I, uh, caught your act tonight."

He hesitantly moves in closer, trying to appear as casual as possible. "You were awesome. You're like the Chuck Norris of performers." he informs her, figuring that's the best compliment he can give without sounding like a sap.

He exhales sharply. God. Her smile is really something.

"Thank you…?"

"Puck." he supplies confidently, flashing her his signature smirk.

She casts him a playfully doubtful look. "You honestly expect me to believe that your mother named you _Puck?_" she inquires, one eyebrow raised at him.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine. It's Noah. Noah Puckerman." he relents. "But I prefer Puck." he asserts.

She gives him the tinniest hint of a smile. "Noah is much nicer."

"It's lame."

"What's lame is naming yourself after a Shakespearian fairy." she quips.

Wait, what?

"Puck is a badass name." he maintains, frowning deeply. "I'm the Puckasaurus."

She gives him an incredulous look before a small laugh bubbles up her throat.

And fuck him, even _that's_ captivating.

"Please tell me you don't regularly refer to yourself as the _'Puckasaurus'_."

"Maybe." He scowls, trying to cover up the fact that he can't stop staring at her. "What do you refer to yourself as?"

He already knows her name but he doesn't want to sound stalkery if he accidentally mentions it before she does.

"Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

"Cool." he nods. "My best bro's name is Finn. Your name's rhyme."

Christ. That's got to be the lamest thing he's ever said.

Nice, Puckerman.

He hears her start to chuckle just as he turns his head out of embarrassment. "So I've been told." she nods, amused.

He'd bet anything Finn was probably the one who told her. Or Brittany. Yeah, maybe Brittany. They're both chicks. They probably hang out more.

He watches as she walks around her horse and picks up a brush. As she begins brushing its coat, he casually tells her, "You've got great eyes."

Cause it's the truth. They're hypnotic. Like…the snake from The Jungle Book hypnotic.

She looks up at him through those long lashes of hers. "Thank you." she says again, her lips quirked in a soft smile.

It takes him a couple seconds to regain his bearings after being rendered entirely dumbstruck by those ridiculously green eyes.

And seriously, what the fuck is wrong with him?

Figuring he should probably do something other than stare at her like an idiot, he blurts out, "Your ass is great too."

Probably not the kind of thing a girl like her wants to hear but hey, it's just as much the truth as the eye comment.

She first rolls her eyes and then shakes her head at him, but her smile's still there so he figures he hasn't blown his chance with her completely. Which is good.

He shoves his hands into his pant pockets as he musters up the courage - so he's a little nervous, okay? - to ask her out.

"So you maybe wanna go into town with me and…hang?" he asks, cringing slightly because yeah, he's usually smoother.

The second he sees her lips purse, he knows she's gonna try to let him down easy. "Maybe some other time." Couldn't say he didn't see that coming. "I was just on my way to lie down."

"It's still early." he tries to protest.

"It's been a long day." she says, sending a small sympathetic smile his way.

His breath catches in his throat when she starts walking toward him, but then he quickly reminds himself that the only exit was behind him.

"Right. So I guess I'll see you around."

"Most likely." she nods, brushing past him. "Goodnight, Noah."

"It's Puck." he calls after her, turning around.

"That's a ridiculous name." she calls back without a second glance.

"Psh. Whatever." he snorts. "You know you like it, Fabray!" he yells, smirking, because yeah, he totally just got another laugh outta her.

Puckasaurus for the win.

—

Another city. Another night. Another show.

Puck sighs, shifting restlessly on his bike as he waits in line for curtain call. He glances around every couple of seconds. Finn ran off a few minutes ago to do god knows what with Berry but he's not the one Puck's looking for.

Ever since he met Quinn Fabray he's been going out of his way to try and get her alone, but it's like the entire universe is dead set on that not happening.

It was driving him crazy. It seemed like every time he wanted to talk to her, she was either hanging around Brittany and Santana, or Hummel and that Aretha chick, or even Sam (that last one he wasn't too okay with considering how straight the guy was. If Puck didn't watch his back Evans might just try to make a move on her, and then he'd be screwed).

And when she wasn't hanging around her new friends, she was off somewhere preparing for a show.

One time he came close to talking to her, they'd just arrived in a new city and he came across her just as she was going off on a couple of handlers who'd apparently been mistreating her horses while they were being unloaded, but he figured that wasn't the best time to try and make small talk - not unless he wanted his head bitten off.

Though now that he thinks back on it, he should've gone for it, her temperament be damned. She was kind of hot (he'd say _cute_ but he didn't want to sound like a pansy) when she got all fired up like that anyways - he could've handled it.

The music swells from inside the Big Top, effectively yanking Puck from his thoughts, and he starts his bike, knowing it was finally time for their damn curtain call.

Finn comes bustling over just in time - thankfully - all red in the face and with that weird little half smirk he gets whenever he's been with Rachel.

Puck just shakes his head and puts on his helmet. At the rate they're going, one of these days those two are gonna accidentally make a kid.

A seriously effed up looking kid.

Curtain call goes on as usual. While everyone else is making their way around the track on foot, waving to the audience and whatnot, Finn and him are on their bikes, doing a bunch of laps and popping wheelies for show.

Puck revs up his engine though when he sees Quinn make her entrance with Maya (that's one of their elephants) and immediately rides over to the other side of the track. He slows down as he gets closer to her.

Because he's got his helmet and goggles on you can't really see his face, but he smiles over at her anyways as he rides along side her, waiting for her to notice him.

It takes a few seconds but eventually she picks up on the sound of his engine close by and glances his way. She smiles down at him and waves slightly, mouthing the words, "Hi, Noah."

The teasing glint in her eyes was unmistakable.

Playfully scowling at her, even though he knows she can't see it, he shakes his head._ It's Puck_, he grumbles, before speeding on ahead.

Things go on normally from there…until they don't.

Before Puck knows what hits him, he hears the audience gasp in what is most definitely fear at a time when they most definitely shouldn't. Skidding to a halt, Puck looks over in time to see the elephant Quinn was riding rear up, alarming the audience closest to it, and curl her trunk into the air.

Maya releases a trumpet like bellow then before taking off in a run, forcing most of the performers to get out of her fuckin' way.

Puck would've cheered the elephant on for breaking the monotony had it not been for the blonde still riding on her back.

Shit. Before he even knows what he's doing, he's pushing aside his bike and breaking out into a run of his own. Sure Quinn had a grasp on Maya's halter, but unless she bailed before Maya reached the exit, she was gonna get knocked right off by the pole that ran across the top.

Either way someone had to be there to catch her.

Curling around the track, he jerks past the others, cursing the elephant's surprising speed and his sudden lack of. Why the fuck didn't he just stay on the bike?

He wills his legs to run faster even when it becomes clear to him that Quinn and Maya were gonna make it to the exit before he does.

When they do his whole body freezes of its own accord. Quinn quickly makes her move though and latches onto the very pole that would have knocked her off before Maya disappears from the tent. She's left hanging limply in the air while the crowd falls silent, everyone watching with bated breath for Quinn to either fall or for someone to come help her.

But before Puck can get back to being that someone, Quinn removes a hand from the pole. Then in one graceful move, she swings around so she's facing the audience, that charming Fabray smile firmly in place.

Like it was just another part of the show.

The band leader, watching from his post, signals furiously for a drum roll the second Quinn points those dancer toes. The lighting technicians quickly follow up with a spotlight.

When she begins swinging around, then around, then around some more as her momentum builds, Puck discreetly makes his way closer to her.

He has no idea what she planned to do when she released that pole but he wasn't about to take any chances. The distance from where she was to the ground was pretty damn far and if she landed wrong…

He shakes his head of the thought just in time to watch that crazy blonde sail through the air, tuck her body into a ball, and roll forward twice. She uncurls for one sideways rotation before landing firmly on the ground.

Absolute silence.

Then in one swift move, she straightens up, strikes a pose, and thrusts both arms into the air, like a gymnast that just perfectly landed her dismount. The band launches into victory music at the same time the entire arena erupts in deafening applause.

Releasing the breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding, Puck shakes his head in utter amazement. Fuck. That girl was _really_ something else.

He waits for the spotlight to leave her before rushing out after her. He follows her outside, grinning, ready to tell her how much of a badass she was, when she falls to her knees right in front of him and releases an agonizing cry.

His smile fades. "Quinn?" Hurrying over to her hunched over form, he carefully picks her up off the ground. She pushes her face into his chest and lets out another strangled whimper, her every muscle clenching in pain.

Fortunately for them both - Puck wasn't sure what to do next - Mrs. Hudson materializes out of nowhere and begins ushering him toward the Hudson-Hummel's trailer. She holds the door open while he ducks inside.

At her beckoning, he eases Quinn down onto the couch. "Everything's going to be okay, sweetheart." Carole assures her as works on getting Quinn's slippers off her feet. "Noah, pass me those scissors next to you, please."

Obediently he passes along the pair of scissors from the woman's basket of sewing supplies. He sits down next to Quinn and takes her hand. While Carole cuts the toes off Quinn's tights and rolls them up her legs, he tries to wrack his brain for some words of comfort, but all he can come up with are different variations of "You'll be okay" and "It'll be alright", which are basically the same thing anyways.

"Noah." His head snaps to attention when Carole addresses him. "Get that cushion behind you and elevate her feet with it." she orders, already halfway out the door. "I'm going to get her some ice."

He nods, quickly standing and doing as she says. He sets it down flat, then helps Quinn lay her legs out in front of her and her feet gently on the cushion.

The second her heels make contact, she lets fly a line of curses that would put even the toughest dudes to shame. Him included.

He would have teased her about it if he wasn't so damn freaked out.

"Sorry." he apologizes with a wince. "Do you want me to like get you anything?"

Quinn covers her face with her hands, then exhales shakily, her hands falling to her sides. "Just keep talking, I need a distraction." she says, clearly making an effort to keep from swearing again.

"I once punched a lion in the face." he says dumbly, telling her the first thing his doofus brain comes up with.

She looks at him like he'd just said he likes to abuse kittens for fun. "That's an awful thing to say."

"It's true." He raises his hand, showing off the scars he had on the back. "How do you think I got this?"

She stares at him disbelievingly. "If you had really punched a lion in the face you wouldn't even have a hand to begin with. And secondly, I know for a fact you got that when you were trying to help Sam clip one of the lion's nails."

Dumbstruck, he eventually manages, "How the fuck did you know that?"

"Sam told me, obviously." She rolls her eyes at him.

"Whatever." Puck shakes his head. He was so gonna kick Sam's ass the next time he sees him. Seriously. Did the bro code mean nothing?

Carole comes back into the trailer with the ice. "I had Burt call up the doctor." she informs. Puck sidesteps out of her way so she can apply the ice pack to Quinn's feet. "He should be on his way."

In spite of her pain, Quinn manages a grateful smile toward the older woman. "Thanks, Mrs. Hudson-Hummel."

"You're welcome, honey." Carole nods. "I'm gonna go check on that doctor. Make sure he knows where to go. Things are kind of chaotic what with the boys still trying to wrangle Maya and all."

Puck waits until Carole leaves the trailer before turning back at Quinn. She kind of looks guilty about the whole Maya thing. "It wasn't your fault." he tells her. "It's a wonder she doesn't go berserk every night, you know cause of all the camera flashes and the noise."

"I know." she sighs, leaning forward to tenderly massage her ankles. "I just hope she's alright."

"That was a great save by the way." He plops down on the arm chair next to her. "I mean I don't there there's anyone else in the troupe that could've pulled that off. I know I couldn't. You were so cool about it, you'd think it was planned or something." He pauses, then glances over at her, his brow furrowed. "Wait, you didn't plan it…did you?"

She shoots him a withering glare. "Of course not." she snaps. "I could've gotten killed."

His hands go up defensively. "Hey, it's just a question!" he exclaims, partly laughing because even when she's pissed she still somehow manages to be kind of adorable.

"Seriously?" There she goes again raising that perfectly arched brow of hers. "You think my near death experience is funny?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a near death experience." he mutters, chuckling to himself. "Did your entire life flash before your eyes?" he can't help but tease. "Cause that's when you know if you'd had one or not."

"You are such an egghead."

"Egghead?" He runs a hand over his head self-consciously. "You can't even tell what kind of a head I got now that I have hair."

Catching sight of the confused look on her face, he explains, "I used to have a mohawk."

She wrinkles her nose slightly (_it's not at all adorable_, is what he tries to convince himself) as she undoubtedly tries to picture him with a mohawk. "For how long?" she wonders, apparently not able to see him with it.

"All through high school." he responds matter-of-factly. "It was awesome."

"I'm sure it was." she says, her tone totally belying her words.

He scoffs indignantly. "Hey, don't diss the 'hawk. I'll have you know back in high school there wasn't a single girl who didn't think it was hot."

Quinn shakes her head at him, rolling her eyes briefly. "As I said. You, Noah Puckerman, are an egghead."

He groans. "For crying out loud, my name is Puck!"

"Not to me." she shrugs, slightly amused by his frustration.

"You're lucky you're injured," he huffs. "Otherwise I'd…."

"Otherwise you'd what?" With her raised voice, she gives him that challenging look that basically reads, _Finish that thought, I dare you._

Because he doesn't even know where that threat was going - and because he doesn't want to die in Finn's parents' trailer (which, with this girl, could definitely happen) - Puck mumbles something nonsensical, hoping to, you know, drop the subject.

When she starts giggling, he glares at her to cover up the embarrassment. "Shut up."

The door to the trailer opens; it's Mrs. Hudson with the doctor.

While Quinn is distracted, Puck takes to grumbling in his seat. "The name is Puck…God damnit."

Her head snaps toward him. "Don't take the Lord's name is vain." she admonishes quietly, throwing him another glare.

It's his turn to raise his eyebrows at her. The hell? What, on top of everything, she has super hearing to boot?

He shakes his head in disbelief. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

Discreetly, when the doctor's busy rummaging through his bag for some kind of a scope, Quinn chucks one of the couch cushions at his head.

Right. He'd said that out loud.

—

It's about a week and a half since her accident. According to the doc, Quinn really bruised up her heels and would be out from performing for a couple weeks. So now that she's like on bed rest - er, foot rest - and can barely even walk (and refuses to let anyone carry her anywhere) she spends all her time in trailer.

She hates it, but Puck actually kind of likes it. Now he doesn't have to work his ass off to try and get her alone; he can just drop by her place and you know, keep her company.

The others take time hanging out with her too but by now he's figured out when they usually stop by so he can schedule his visits accordingly (cause the last thing he wants is to spend another disastrous afternoon alone with Quinn, _and _Santana and Brittany watching their lame girlie shows).

Once was enough thanks.

Opening her trailer door, Puck saunters on in without knocking. "Sup, Fabray." he greets, his guitar slung over his shoulder. As usual she's sitting down on her couch, watching tv with her feet extended in front of her, resting on a pillow and an ice pack.

He glances behind him to see what she's watching, then turns back around and shakes his head. "You keep watching all those black and white shows and eventually you'll go colorblind." he informs her, lifting his guitar strap over his head.

Since hanging out with Quinn, he's learned a couple things her. One of them being that she likes old movies and television shows. Like _ancient_ old. Like from the 20's or something.

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard." she says without pause, her eyes unwavering from the screen. "Did you bring me anything?" she wonders, glancing over at him expectantly.

He scoffs at her. "I bring you back a BLT _one_ time and suddenly it's like a requirement?"

Another thing he's learned: she's obsessed with bacon. Like _legit_ obsessed.

"It should be." she confirms, muting the tv. She notices his guitar. "You have a guitar?"

He playfully rolls his eyes. "No. This is a ukulele." She glares at him, then as he's sitting down, reaches over and takes the guitar from him.

He raises his brow at her. "You play?"

"Oh god no." She shakes her head. "Although I do know like three chords." She shows them to him. "Sam taught them to me." she explains.

"Sam?" he can't help but repeat, caught off guard.

So that grouper mouth _was_ after his girl!

"Yeah." Lucky for him she doesn't pick up on the jealousy radiating off him. "So do you sing too?" she asks, looking over at him curiously.

He takes back his guitar and snorts. "Everyone here sings. We're like one big…" he trails off, searching for the word.

"Glee club?" she supplies, lips quirked with amusement.

Puck blinks. "What the hell is a glee club?"

Quinn just laughs. Her attention falls back to his guitar. "So are you planning on serenading me?" she teases.

"No." He scoffs, trying to play it cool.

"I just thought you'd like a little live entertainment or something, I dunno." he says, shrugging it off. "Beats watchin' your old people shows."

"I Love Lucy is a classic!" she defends, aghast. "And I'll have you know that I don't mute Lucy for just anyone so you better watch what you say from here on out, Puckerman." she warns, waving around the remote control like the little old granny she secretly was on the inside.

Fuckin' hell. Why was she so goddamn cute?

…and good God. What was happening to him?

Since when does the Puckasaurus think girls are _cute? _Girls are not cute. Girls are hot. Sexy. Smokin'. Bangable.

Shaking his head to himself, he goes back to tuning his guitar. "Whatever." It's his go-to response when he has nothing better to say.

"So are you going to actually sing something or is that thing just for show?" she wonders.

When Puck glances back at her, sure enough, she's got that damn eyebrow thing goin' again.

"Fine." First adjusting his grip, he clears his throat. As he strums his guitar, he softly sings, "_She's a very kinky girl…the kind you don't take home to mother…_"

He raises his shoulders and laughs when she reaches across to smack his arm, but continues to sing anyways. "_She's a super freak, super freak…she's super-freaky, oh!_"

"Honestly." she sighs, rolling her eyes. "Please tell me you know something that isn't sung by Rick James."

Sighing, he idly begins playing the chords to a song he once overheard her singing to herself, figuring it'd shut her up.

C_an't take my eyes off you _is not the kind of song a guy like him admits to knowing, let alone liking - which he doesn't by the way, (old timey boy bands were lame as fuck) but ever since he heard her rendition, he hasn't for the life of him been able to get the tune out of his head.

Sidetracked by his own thoughts, he almost doesn't realize Quinn was singing along with him until he glances her way. He smiles a little and keeps on playing.

But it's then, when he's listening to her that he really pays attention to the lyrics and realizes with a start _just_ what kind of a song he was singing to her.

Good God, Puckerman, he thinks to himself. What are you doing? _That's_ the song you choose to play? Now she's gonna think you're like fuckin' in love with her or just some weird sappy lovesick fool.

And there goes his badboy image. Jesus. She was probably gonna tell Santana and Brittany all about this and behind Ladyface and Aretha, those two were the biggest blabbermouths in the troupe.

Shit.

Puck stops playing before they can get to the chorus. He can feel himself scowling. "There." he snaps. "Happy now?"

"Interesting song choice, Puckerman." she comments. He can hear the smile in her voice.

"Well you like that old crap, don't ya?" he responds gruffly.

"I love the classics, yes." She nods. "But that song?" Grinning, she reaches over and pokes his side softly. "What are you trying to say, Noah?" she teases.

Scoffing, he shrugs her off. "Don't flatter yourself Fabray." He sets his guitar down and props it up against the couch. "The only girl I can't take my eyes off of is Kate Upton."

"Uh huh. Sure." she smirks. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her lean to the side, trying to get his attention. "Then why can't you look me in the eye? Hmm?"

"I can look you in the eye." He looks over at her, making a point of it. "See?"

Quinn shakes her head at him. "Egghead." she states with a grin, leaning back against the couch.

He rolls his eyes before his gaze falls back to the muted tv. "Whatever."

"You've got a great voice you know." she says suddenly.

"Thanks." he mutters. He reluctantly glances back at her. "So do you."

"I'm no Rachel though." she sighs. "Or Mercedes. Or Santana, for that matter."

"Doesn't matter." he tells her honestly. "You sound awesome. I mean you could be like a legit singer if you wanted. You could be a lot of things actually." He looks over at her questioningly, his brow furrowing. "So why are you here working in this dump?"

She raises her brow at him. "Don't get me wrong," he starts to amend, "This place is great. But you…you're so talented. I've seen your act. People like you shouldn't be wasting their breath out here in the middle of nowhere. You should be in like LA or New York or something."

She smiles faintly. "You're sweet."

"Just tellin' the truth." he shrugs. He looks at her expectantly. "So? How'd you get mixed up in this business?"

"Well," She heaves a heavy sigh and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've always loved dance ever since I could walk. And I was dead set on becoming a professional dancer when I was old enough but my parents were never supportive of my dreams. They think dancing is a hobby, not a career. They wanted me to go to their alma mater, Yale, and get my degree in something respectable like medicine or law." She rolls her eyes at the very idea.

"Right. You're from Connecticut." he says, remembering what Santana had mentioned. "You come from one of those blue blooded families?" he guesses.

"Yeah." Judging by the face she makes, Quinn doesn't like to be reminded of that fact. "Don't hold it against me."

"I won't." he assures.

"Anyways," she continues, "I made it very clear to them that I wanted to go to a performing arts school for college and would sooner eat dirt than go to Yale-"

"Nice." Puck grins.

"Wasn't so nice when they threw me out on my ass and disowned me." she breathes, her smile slightly bitter.

That genuinely surprises him. "Seriously?" He couldn't imagine anyone, let alone her own parents, doing something like that to _her_. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." she echoes with a nod.

"What'd you do?"

"Joined the circus." she says easily enough. "Well I hadn't known it was a circus at first." She amends. "I just came across this flyer that was searching for performers in the area and figured that since my parents were no longer supporting me financially or otherwise, I'd see what it was about." She shrugs. "Maybe land myself a job. So I auditioned for this _crazy_ woman in a red tracksuit who thought I had potential - those weren't her exact words, but I knew what she meant - so she hired me to join her ensemble. She kind of taught me everything I know."

Quinn pauses for a few seconds, then adds, "I only ever intended to travel around, working for her until I had enough money to pay for school. But the more I got into it, the more it felt like I found my niche. Like this was what I was meant to do." A smile flickers at her lips. "It wasn't long before my act became an attraction in itself so I figured I might as well stick with it."

"So what made you come here?"

"Sue Sylvester was an absolute psychopath." She laughs shortly. "So when I started getting other offers I jumped at the chance to get as far away from her as possible. Out of all the people I met with, Burt seemed like guy who'd take care of me best."

"How long do you plan on doing this?"

He can't remember the last time he's asked a girl this many questions before, maybe because in all his years he's never had any actual interest in what a girl's story was.

"For as long as I can I guess." she shrugs, idly fiddling around with her dress. "As long as I can bring in the customers."

"You don't ever think about still going to school?"

"Sometimes. But I don't know if I could do it." she quietly admits. Something in the way she looks tells him that she doesn't talk like this in front of just anybody. He can't quite pinpoint how that makes him feel exactly.

"I mean after all this…Here I'm a star, out there I'd be just like everyone else. Just another nobody."

"If you can make yourself a star here, you could do it out there."

"Easier said than done." she sighs wistfully.

"I believe in you." And it's the honest truth. He knows he doesn't know her that well, but it's a gut feeling he has. She was destined for greatness.

She regards him skeptically, her brow furrowed, before something dawns on her. "You must really want to sleep with me, don't you?" she realizes with a laugh.

He stares at her blankly, confused. "What?"

She shoots him a disbelieving glance. "Oh come on, Noah. Don't act like it isn't true. I know guys like you. You'll do or say anything to get a girl to fuck you."

His frown deepens because fuck, he was sick and tired of people judging him like that. Sure he's been nothing but _that_ guy since like puberty, but he hasn't been able to so much as take a second glance at another girl since Quinn showed up, _thank you very much_.

"Not anymore." he insists. "I mean sure when I was sixteen and horny as fuck, yeah, but I mean, I haven't even tried any of my usual moves on you."

"Why?" She arches her brow at him. "Cause you know they'd never work?" she smirks.

"Yeah." He's not gonna deny that's not even remotely true. "But mainly because you're not like most girls."

Quinn rolls her eyes and sighs. "Now if I haven't heard that before…"

"I'm serious." he maintains, glaring because he knows he's not the most original guy, he's not poetic with his words - hell most of the time he doesn't even know what to say - and he doesn't like being made fun of for it.

"I'm not gonna lie. I've been around the block a lot. I've hooked up with more girls than I can count - 99% I can't even remember their faces. You, you're different. I knew it the second I saw you. Like one in a million, you're the whole package: the beauty, the brains, the talent," He gestures blindly to the tv, "The weird interests."

"Thanks…I think."

Puck smiles. "My point is if I was just hanging around you to get you in bed, I would've made my move already."

She quirks her brow at him again. "Even though I'm injured?"

"Wouldn't matter." He can feel his face twist into a smirk. "You'd be off your feet anyways." he states confidently.

He just laughs when she reaches over and smacks him again.

"So if you're not looking for sex, why are you here Puckerman?" she asks, partly serious. She falls back against the cushions. "To get to know me better?" she snorts.

"Maybe." He raises his shoulders briefly, slightly uncomfortable. "Truth is I could use someone to hang out with who I actually can stand to be around."

"I thought Finn was your friend."

"He is. But he's constantly off sucking face with Rachel." Puck rolls his eyes.

"You don't like her?" she guesses.

"She never shuts up but I guess Finn could do worse." he admits. "I mean if she makes him happy then that's what matters, right? I just wished they weren't so fuckin' disgusting when they make out." He wrinkles his nose, able to clearly picture them goin' at it. It's a good thing he ate a while ago, otherwise…

"It is pretty revolting." Quinn agrees with a faint nod. Straightening up in her seat, she turns her upper body toward him expectantly. "So what should we do now?"

"I thought we were gonna finish watching your precious Lulu or whatever the hell that chick is called." he says, waving a hand to the tv.

"_Lucy_." she corrects with a laugh; he grins. "And we don't have to. I know you don't care for these types of shows. What would you like to watch?"

"Porn."

This time when she reaches across, she just pushes at his head.

He really should seriously considering sitting farther away from her to prevent further injury, but every time he glances over and sees those smiling eyes, he can't bring himself to want to move as much as an inch away from her.

"Okay fine." He pushes himself upright off the couch. "I've got an idea on what we can do. Don't move."

Quinn rolls her eyes at him before gesturing to her feet.

"Right." he laughs. "I'll right back."

He comes back to her trailer about five minutes later carrying his gaming system and two controllers.

"Video games?" she inquires as soon as she sees what he has. She rolls her eyes briefly before shaking her head. "Figures." she scoffs.

Sinking down to the floor in front of her tv, he looks back at her, his brow raised. "Have you even played a video game before?" he questions.

Quinn merely shakes her head.

"Okay then. Don't knock it until you try it."

After he's hooked everything up and put in Mario Kart, he plops back down on the couch next to her. He hands her a controller. "Here."

As she settles back against the couch, she turns to him and asks, "What do I get if I win?"

"Shouldn't winning be the reward in itself?" he replies distractedly as he chooses his character. Once he's done (he's Mario of course) he reaches for Quinn's controller to select Princess Peach for her.

She swats his hand away before he can though. "Hey, knock it off." She takes back her controller.

"Just because I'm blonde doesn't mean I want to be the blonde princess." Scrolling through the character selections, she stops abruptly and declares, "Ooh. I'm this little guy. He's adorable!"

Puck rolls his eyes. "That's Toad."

She frowns at the screen. "Strange name for a mushroom person." She shrugs it off quickly. After all what would be an appropriate name for a video game mushroom?

—

None to his surprise, Quinn's horrible starting out.

It gets to the point where he has to pause the game and literally explain to her how the controller works.

She smacks him twice for 'patronizing' her - whatever that means.

Thankfully, now that she has the hang of things she's much better this time around. Eventually though she gets frustrated with constantly losing to him so when she's dead set on beating his ass (her words, not his) he cons her into switching characters, claiming she'd have a better chance of it if she had a stronger one than Toad.

It's complete bullshit; he just wants her as his Peach.

After that it isn't long before she's knocking off all his top scores.

Now he knows he's got it bad when, instead of being pissed, he's proud.

—

Quinn jumps back into her usual routine the second she gets cleared by her doctor. Having been out of work for weeks and confined to her trailer most of the time, she kind of started going stir-crazy so when she'd been given the _good to go_ she threw herself back into her work just as she'd done before the injury.

Lucky for Puck though, she spends just as much time with him as she'd done when she was injured, maybe even more so.

It was awesome.

They've been hanging out so much in fact that it kind of got the troupe under the impression that were…hooking up. Had it been any other guy, people would've assumed they were dating, but cause it's Puck who's never had (nor wanted) a girlfriend in his life, no they're just sleeping together.

He can't help but roll his eyes at their friends' stupidity. Honestly.

"You ready, Fabray?" he calls out, walking around the corner. She'd only gone inside to look for some tissues or something and that was a while ago. He steps inside his trailer and shakes his head at what he finds.

"Seriously? You cleaned our trailer?"

"I may have picked up a few things." she says, frowning defensively. "But only because I couldn't find anything with all this crap everywhere. Are you and Finn really that incapable of picking up after yourselves?"

"Uh yeah." he scoffs, the 'duh' totally implied. "We're dudes."

She rolls her eyes before turning her head. "I saw this." She holds up the framed picture of him - with his mohawk - and Finn from high school, in their football gear. "And it just proves that you are _literally _an egghead."

"Shut up, Fabray." he scowls, trying valiantly not to smile at her grin. "C'mon." He motions his head over his shoulder. "Let's go already. Before I change my mind and decide I'd rather hang around here than take you for a ride."

Quinn scoffs outright at that. "If you did that I'd just steal your bike and go off exploring on my own." she retorts, following him outside.

He snorts. "I'd like to see that."

When they reach his bike Puck, being the gentleman that he is, extends his helmet to her. "Here."

"No thanks."

He glances back at her, brow furrowed. He keeps his arm outstretched. "You should probably take it."

Sure he thought safety was for suckers but Burt - and probably the whole troupe for that matter - would have his ass if something happened to their star while on his watch.

Quinn just continues to shake her head, refusing to take the damn thing. "I'm good."

In no mood to argue with her about it, considering his less than awesome track record of victories against her, he merely shrugs it off and puts on the helmet himself. "Fine."

He just figures it's some kind of chick thing where she doesn't want to ruin her hair.

It isn't until they're out on the road that he realizes the true reason why she opted out of wearing the helmet.

Puck glances back at her, just to see how she was doing (he's never taken a girl out on his bike before), and finds her with her head thrown back, back arched, her arms spread out like a bird. Her hair's whipping around in the wind, her eyes are closed, but she's got this smile on her face like she's never been more content in her life.

She was fucking breathtaking.

The only reason he tears his eyes off the sight is to ensure that he doesn't inadvertently do some off-roading and crash.

Thankfully though because they're in the middle of Kansas now (or is it Oklahoma? Whatever, same thing) it's mainly just open road for miles, nothing but flat grasslands, corn fields, and farms so even if he were to crash it wouldn't be too bad.

After driving for a long while he pulls over to nearest convenience store to get something to drink.

She goes in with him. While he grabs a beer he figures she'll grab something like a lemonade or just water, but she doesn't, instead picking out a hard cider.

He raises his brow at her.

"What?" she shrugs. "It tastes like apples."

Since neither one of them is twenty-one yet they flash the old guy behind the counter their fake ids when he asks for them.

She isn't the least bit surprised that he has a fake id, but he admittedly is when she casually shows off hers.

"Emily Stark. Born in Honolulu." he reads aloud, her id in one hand, his beer in the other. They're sitting under a tree nearby. It doesn't keep much shade but the weather's pretty cool anyways even with the sun out. "Barely legal." Reading over her name again, he repeats, "Stark. Like Tony Stark." he informs, handing it back to her. "Like Iron Man." He grins.

"I know. Why do you think I picked it?" she laughs.

He stares at her, disbelieving. "You like Iron Man?"

"Iron Man's awesome." she confirms, and that just does it.

He's had to stop himself from just going for it and kissing her more times than count but this time he just can't fucking help himself. He leans over and kisses her, his mouth pressed to hers, gently and deeply all at once.

He pulls away after a few seconds before she can hit him or something. He looks straight into her eyes, for some kind of a reaction. She doesn't look like she's about to kick his ass. Which is good.

She's smiling. Which is even better.

But he apologizes anyways because he knows she's not the kind of girl who likes when people do something without her permission. "Sorry."

Quinn shakes her head at him and places a hand behind his neck, intent on bringing him in for a kiss of her own. He stops her at the last second though.

"First tell me how much you love Super Mario Bros."

None to his surprise, she responds with an eye roll and by smacking him upside the head. But what does surprise him is when she suddenly yanks him forward by the collar of his shirt.

"Egghead." Is all that she whispers before closing the gap between them.

It's the best fucking kiss he's ever had in his life.

—

Two days after the troupe makes camp in St. Louis, Burt announces that he was able to pull some strings with an old buddy of his and score them tickets to a major league hockey game.

First thing that comes to Puck's mind is: who the fuck would want to go to a hockey game?

Answer: everyone apparently.

He figures it's cause no one has anything better planned on their day off. Why else would they get all excited to see a team none of them have even heard of, play a sport most of them could care less about?

"Did you know that the team is named after the famous W.C Handy song _Saint Louis Blues_?" Puck rolls his eyes, because good god, Rachel's been rambling nonstop about the team's so-called fun facts since what felt like forever already. "Also the Blues are the oldest NHL team never to have won the Stanley Cup-"

Somewhere behind him he hears Santana groan. "For Christ's sake Berry shut your trap before I shut it for you with this hot dog."

Puck just shakes his head as the lot of them head toward their seats and continues walking alongside Quinn.

Their fingers are interlocked.

He's not sure if he grabbed her hand without realizing or if she grabbed his hand but whatever. Either way they were holding hands and neither one was complaining.

He doesn't really know what they were exactly - he's never officially asked her out on a date and they've never talked about defining things - but they spend more time with each other than anyone else and they make out a lot, so…yeah.

As soon as halftime starts (or whatever they call it in hockey) Puck ducks out to take a whiz. He continues to shake his head, his mind still processing what it'd just seen. The game was tied so far and kind of intense (as intense as it could get without any fights breaking out at least), but that wasn't the weird thing.

It was seeing Quinn and Rachel get super into the game, jumping up and down in their oversized Blues jerseys (none of the girls had realized just how cold the place would be; Puck ended up shelling out forty whole bucks for a stupid jersey) shouting and screaming at the players. Those two weren't even friends really and yet when the home team scored a goal, they threw their arms around each other and celebrated like they were old buds.

He doesn't even think they realized _who_ they were hugging.

Puck comes back in time to hear Santana ask to no one in particular, "Anyone care to explain why a team that's called the Blues has a polar bear for a mascot?"

He lifts his gaze to the rink and sure enough there's some poor dude forced to skate around in a blue polar bear costume.

"Well they can't exactly make a color a mascot, now can they?" Brittany answers, sitting beside her.

Instead of taking the long way around to the end of the aisle, Puck simply hops over the rows of seats. He plops himself back down next to Quinn. "Here."

He hands over the hockey puck with the team logo he'd gotten over at the souvenir stand for her.

Now he could've said something romantic and lame like, "So you'll always think of me" but that's not his style so instead he goes with, "Maybe that'll remind you that my name is _Puck_ and not Noah."

She takes the puck and smiles appreciatively at him. "Is it really that important to you?" she sighs.

He nods. "Hell yeah."

She playfully rolls her eyes as she gives in. "Okay, fine." He grins triumphantly. "Thank you, Puck…erman."

"God damn woman." he groans, throwing his head back dramatically.

Quinn raises her shoulders innocently, a small smile playing across her lips. "I will call you Noah. I will call you Puckerman. But I will _not_ call you Puck."

"Why you gotta make things so damn difficult?" he huffs, glaring back at her.

"It's more interesting that way, don't you think?" she smirks, quirking an eyebrow as she pops a popcorn kernel in her mouth.

—

"So have you heard from your parents since they…you know?"

Puck looks over at her curiously. They've been lying here for a while, staring up at the stars while they talk about mostly anything and everything that comes to mind. For the past couple minutes he'd been talking about his family back home.

Quinn keeps her attention fixated on the sky. "Nope."

"Like at all?"

She shakes her head. "Nope."

His gaze falls back overhead. "That sucks."

"Yeah, but I got over it a long time ago." she sighs. "My parents aren't exactly the kind of people you miss."

"It was that bad growing up?"

"They wanted perfection in every aspect of their lives. Every mistake I made, every time I failed to live up to their insane expectations, they'd hold it against me. Even when I did something right - even when I got straight A's in school or made the varsity cheerleading team or was voted prom queen - it was never enough." she sighs heavily.

"My older sister was the perfect one. She was the one who did everything according to my parent's wishes. She went to Yale and graduated top of her class, she married her college sweetheart, who's of course a doctor, and now is the happy mother of two and a half kids."

"That sounds dull as shit." he flat out admits and Quinn, she just laughs.

"It's like The Stepford Wives." she agrees. "But scarier because it's actually real. Hell my mother doesn't even think for herself anymore - she never makes a move without consulting my father. His opinions are her opinions."

"No wonder you got the fuck out of dodge."

"Turns out being disowned was an absolute blessing in disguise." she nods. "If I had stayed around any longer, who knows, they might've succeeded in brainwashing me."

"Nah." Puck disagrees. "I don't think so." He glances over at her again and smirks. This time she turns to meet his gaze. "People like us with our insane levels of awesome aren't susceptible to mindfucks." he explains.

Quinn grins. "True." she chuckles, contently leaning into his side.

Just then someone clears their throat.

They both lift their heads off the picnic table they were on. Then Puck props himself up by his elbows while Quinn sits upright.

"Whatdaya what, Evans?" he asks grumpily, annoyed by the grouper mouth's presence.

Sam ignores him and looks over at Quinn. "Quinn you're on in ten. Burt wanted me to come get you."

"Right." She smoothes a quick hand over her hair. "I'll be right there."

Sam nods and turns on his heel. Quinn hops off the table and proceeds to dust herself off. She was all ready to go for her performance, with hair, makeup, and everything.

"How do I look?" she has to ask. "Should I run down to my trailer and get a touch up?"

Puck shakes his head as he gets to his feet. "You're fuckin' beautiful, babe. Break a leg." he tells her, cause according to Rachel _that's_ the 'proper' way to tell a performer good luck.

"Thanks." Quinn walks over to him and gives him a quick peck on the lips.

"Fuck that, Fabray." He grabs onto her wrist just as she's about to walk away. "You call that a kiss? If you're gonna kiss someone goodbye you better do it right."

Grabbing her by the arms, he pulls her forward and kisses her nice and deep, like those guys do to their girls in those old movies she's always yammering on about.

Apparently those old dead guys were onto something because, judging by her dazed expression, he totally just rocked her world.

Puckasaurus for the win. _Again_.

Seeing the triumph in his eyes, she shakes her head at him. "You're still an egghead, you know." she murmurs breathlessly.

He playfully rolls his eyes. "Whatever." he scoffs, still smiling. "You love me anyways."

"What?"

Puck freezes. Oh shit. "Uh, what?"

Quinn raises her brow. "You think I love you?"

"Of course I do." he says confidently, swallowing down his fear like a pro. "Everyone loves the Puckasaurus." he declares, his smile smug.

She rolls her eyes at him, unable to help from smiling herself. But her smile falters though the second she looks up at him through her lashes and asks, "Do _you_ love me?" she wonders hesitantly, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his answer or not.

Had this been high school Puck would've denied and denied ever feeling that way about a girl - the L word having always made him feel kind of disgusted - but he's not some sixteen year-old punk kid anymore.

He's a man. A man in love with a really fuckin' awesome girl - er, woman, - whatever the correct term is, and sure he knows it's soon to be admitting that kind of stuff out loud but it's how he feels.

He's never been in love but he's smart enough to know that when it hits, it's the kind of thing you can't mistake even if you've never experienced it before.

"Well, yeah." he nods, nervous and confident at the same time (he doesn't even understand how the fuck that's possible).

He knows he's possibly risking ruining everything they have going for them but he's never lied to her before and he's not about to start now, especially about this, of all things. "I mean, why wouldn't I?" he hears himself press on. "You're amazing. You're Quinn Fabray."

When she remains silent, he swallows hard and continues, "I _do_ love you. I wouldn't be telling you if I didn't, trust me." he insists. "Hell I don't even think I've ever said the L-word to a girl before, besides my ma."

She stares into his eyes, studying him closely as if trying to tell if he was being sincere or not.

He knows he was telling her the truth but he still feels terrified - her silence was more than he could take. Quinn isn't exactly what you'd call an open book; sometimes you really don't know where you stand with her.

Like now.

"Jesus, Fabray." he swears. "Say something before I pass out here."

"I love you too."

She knows that it's true, but he can tell it's a fact that scares her. Hell it scares him too. For someone who prided himself on being an expert on women, he had absolutely zero experience with this particular department.

But he can't - no, _won't_ - fuck this up. She was too goddamn important to him.

Puck releases the breath he'd apparently been holding. "Well…good."

"Such an egghead." she sighs, taking a few steps toward him. She places both hands on his cheeks and raises herself onto her toes to kiss his lips.

He rests his hands on her hips, wanting to keep her there a while longer, but she's cutting it real close to showtime so when she pulls away he doesn't try to stop her.

"Knock 'em dead, Fabray."

She walks off in the direction of the big top, but not before calling out over her shoulder, "Always do."

Puck smirks to himself. That's his girl.

—

"Goddamn." he breathes, plopping himself down in the nearest folding chair.

He'd just spent who knows how many hours exploring Pittsburgh with the troupe and he was fuckin' exhausted. Quinn had turned him into her own personal pack mule, making him carry all her shopping bags (seriously how many vintage dresses does one chick need?) and all those freaking boxes of records she just _had_ to have.

"C'mon, Puckerman." He groans when she nudges his ankle with her foot. "I need help getting these to my trailer."

"Can't Finn help you?" He looks to his side, then frowns when he realizes the frankenteen had up and disappeared on him.

"Noah, please! We've got a show to get ready for, remember?"

Puck throws his head back. Good god, didn't they _just_ have a show?

"Fine." he grumbles, reluctantly pushing himself upright. He reaches down and scoops up the two cardboard boxes full of records ten minutes ago he'd swore he'd never lift again.

He follows her through the camp, en route to her trailer, when suddenly a brand spankin' new Mercedes pulls up through the gate. The two of them slow their pace at the sight and exchange questioningly looks.

The guy behind the wheel gets out. Girls would probably say he was like _Mr. Right_, with his suit and tie, charming smile, baby blue eyes, and perfectly styled hair.

But to Puck, all he sees is a grade A douche.

He opens his mouth to say something sarcastic and clever but Quinn interrupts him with, "Biff?"

Puck does a double take at his girl. "Huh?"

Paying no attention to him, Quinn sets down her bags and walks over to the guy she apparently knows.

The hell?

He sets down her boxes and follows in her wake.

"Biff, oh my god it is you!" she exclaims, stunned. This Biff guy flashes her a megawatt smile that seriously freaks Puck out. His teeth were like _Ross from Friends _white. "What are you doing here?" she asks, greeting him with a hug.

"I'm in town on business." Biff replies, straightening his posture after he's returned the gesture. "I saw the posters - _your_ posters - around and figured I'd stop by and see my old friend. Quinn, how are you?"

"Good. Great, actually." Realizing that Puck was standing beside her, she turns to him and gestures to Biff. "Oh. Sorry. Biff, this is my boyfriend, Noah Puckerman. Noah, this is an old family friend of mine, Biff McIntosh."

Puck quirks his brow. "Like the apple?"

"Yeah, exactly like it." Biff nods. "My family planted the first McIntosh apple orchard in Pennsylvania so every time you have one of our apples we get a nickel." He ends on a wink.

Puck tries his hardest not to make a face. Yeah….this guy was a total douche.

"Our fathers went to boarding school together and our families have been friends ever since." Quinn explains to him.

Puck just nods, his attention focused on this Biff character.

Biff turns to Quinn. "Quinn we must catch up."

Jesus. Just the sound of this guy's voice makes Puck want to punch something.

Quinn agrees with a nod. "Yeah that sounds great Biff, but I have to work tonight-"

"I'll pick you up after the show." Biff declares, cutting her off.

"You could stay for the show if you wanted." she suggests.

"I'd love to but I have a business dinner I'm on my way to. Here." Biff pulls out his cell phone and hands it to Quinn. "Put in your number." She does. "I'll text you when I'm done, okay?"

Puck stiffens when the guy has the audacity to lean in and kiss her cheek, right there in front of him. "See you in a little while."

"Yeah, bye Biff." she nods, caught off guard by the gesture.

Biff turns to him and gives him a curt nod. "Nice meeting you, Puckerman."

"Yeah. See ya."

Puck waits until the guy's out of hearing distance before rounding on Quinn. He raises his brow at her. "What the hell kind of a name is Biff?"

"The same kind that _Puck_ is." she quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

—

A few hours later, after the show's over and he's put his bike away, Puck heads on over to Quinn's trailer. She assured him like a dozen times already that Biff has always been and will always be nothing more than a friend but while Puck was relieved to learn that, he still didn't trust this guy one bit.

"Hey, Puckerman!"

Puck turns around of his own accord and silently groans when he sees who it is. "Biff."

_Of course._

Sighing to himself, he grudgingly waits for the guy to catch up to him.

"Puck. Good to see you." It takes his every ounce of self control not to shrug off Biff's hand when the dude clasps him on the shoulder. "You mind pointing me in the direction of Quinn's trailer? This place is like a maze."

"I'm heading there right now." he mutters, his body already half turned away. He doesn't even get a few paces in before Biff starts with the questions.

"So…how long have you been seeing Quinn?"

"Awhile." He knows his answer is vague, but frankly his relationship with Quinn isn't any of this guy's damn business.

"Do you love her?"

Puck stops abruptly and whips around. "What's it to you?" he snaps. He shakes his head, not wanting to know the answer. "Look just back the fuck off. Quinn's with _me_. I know a snake when I see one so don't think I'm gonna just let you worm your way back into her life - not that she'd fall for any of your crap anyways. She hates dipshits like you."

Biff raises his brow. "And who are you to speak for her? I've known her since we were in diapers. You've known her - what? A few weeks, months? You really think you know her?"

"Hell yeah I know her." he scoffs, his fists clenching at his sides. "I probably even know her better than you do."

Biff holds up his hands in attempt to placate him. "Look, Puck, I'm not here to get in a fight."

"Good cause I'd kick your ass clear to Philly if we did."

Biff laughs him off. "I have no intentions of going after Quinn." he informs, smoothing out the front of his jacket. "She's made it clear on multiple occasions that we were not meant to be anything more than good friends. I'll admit that bothered me for awhile, but I eventually got over it."

"You going anywhere with this?" Puck snaps impatiently, rolling his eyes.

"I came here because I still very much care about her and her well being." Biff explains. "In spite of everything that has happened I want her to be happy."

Puck frowns deeply. "She _is_ happy." he asserts. "So yeah, if that's all you came here for you can leave now."

"Like I said I've known Quinn all my life." Biff exhales, briefly rolling his eyes. "If you really know her like you say you do then we both can agree that she is destined for far more than _this_." He waves a hand, gesturing to their less than spectacular surroundings.

Puck stays silent for a moment because while he agrees, he doesn't want to give Biff the satisfaction of being right. "What's your point?"

"She might be happy doing this now but eventually she will grow tired and restless and want something more out of her life."

Puck can't say he doesn't know the feeling.

"Now you seem like a good guy." Biff clasps him on the shoulder, then looks at him pointedly. "So here's my advice to you. Don't get in her way. Don't be the thing that holds her back when opportunity arises."

Puck stares at him, confused. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

But Biff doesn't answer him, he dismisses his question entirely, and walks past him. Brow furrowed, Puck turns around and sure enough Quinn is across the way, heading over to them.

He exhales deeply and grudgingly follows in Biff's wake. _Be cool, Puck, be cool…don't kill the apple picking douchebag in front of Quinn… _

—

While Quinn's out, Puck holes himself up in his trailer (Finn was with Rachel, as per usual), drinking beer and playing Call of Duty.

Those were the only two things that served as good enough distractions from his incessant thoughts of Quinn, of Biff, of them together.

He loses track of time fairly easily, just as he always does when he really gets into his gaming, so when his trailer door opens and Quinn steps inside, he's fairly surprised by her presence. It didn't seem like that much time had passed.

"How was it?" he asks, his gaze unwavering from the television screen. What? He was kicking ass right now.

"Tiring." she sighs, shrugging off her coat. She walks over to him and greets him with a kiss before stealing his beer from the table and plopping herself down on the couch next to him.

"That bad, huh?" he figures.

Good. Maybe now he won't have to worry about ever seeing that tool again - and possibly breaking his obnoxiously pretty face.

Quinn takes a sip of his beer and nods. "The only reason he came by was on behalf of my parents."

"Seriously?" he glances back at her, incredulous.

She shakes her head as she sets down the bottle. "I wasn't surprised though." She reaches for the second controller and leans back. "My parents - and Biff's for that matter - always did want us to get together, unify the two families and whatnot." she explains. "It always bothered Biff - he _hated_ not being able to fulfill his parents' wishes."

Puck smirks. "So what else?"

"Well Biff spent an hour or so catching me up on all our old friends and by the sounds of it, they had morphed into the same vain, obnoxious, and haughty people their parents are. It's sad really." she sighs, shaking her head.

"As kids they all used to be normal, Biff included, then it's like when puberty hits, all that changes. Suddenly you're talking down to others, ripping apart the people you hate behind their backs while pretending to be their best friends in front of it, spending lavishly on frivolous things just because you can."

"Sounds like an episode of Gossip Girl." he comments mindlessly.

Quinn looks over at him, brow quirked. "How do you know what Gossip Girl is?" she asks, highly amused.

"I have a little sister." he retorts defensively. "When I was still at home, she was like addicted to those crappy teen dramas. She was always watching them when my ma wasn't home - she thought they rotted your brain and encouraged _promiscuity_." He rolls his eyes.

She just shakes her head, then turns her attention back to the screen. She sighs. "If anything Biff showing up here just made me that more thankful that I got out when I did, even if I was technically _forced_ out."

Quinn fiddles around with the buttons on her controller; Puck just laughs cause he's pretty sure she has no idea how to even play this game.

"I haven't even gotten to the crazy part, get this. According to Biff, my mother wants me to come home." Puck turns to her, surprised. She nods. "Yeah apparently she's willing to pay my tuition to _any_ school of my choosing."

He pauses his game, his brow furrowed. "But isn't that like a good thing?" At her incredulous glance, he explains, "I mean now you can go to your dream school and dance, get the fuck out of here."

She looks at him, brow knitted together in confusion. "You want me to leave the troupe?"

"What?" He shakes his head. "No, of course not."

"Really?" There goes that raised eyebrow. "Because that's what it sounds like to me, like you want me gone."

"I didn't mean it like that." he sighs. "Hell I'm the fuckin' last person on earth who'd want you gone, Fabray. I just…well I know you're meant for better things, that's all. I mean you can't seriously want to spend the rest of your life traveling around with the circus, doing this night after night."

"Don't you?"

"No." he flat out admits. "I mean, I like my job but this isn't all that I want out of my life. I gotta be meant for something more than just riding a bike through a ring of fire. Shit, a monkey could do that. For a while I thought about the Air Force -"

Quinn balks. "Air Force?" she echoes, stunned. "Wait, you want to join the military? When?"

He shrugs. "Dunno." he says honestly. "Before I get too old to enlist that's for sure."

She turns in her seat to fully regard him. "Why haven't you told me about this before?"

He scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Because I didn't really think about it? I mean I've kind of just been enjoying my time with you. Haven't thought much about anything else, really." He looks over at her and sees that she has tears burning in her eyes. "Wait why are you upset?"

He jerks back instinctively when she stands suddenly (for a second there he thought he was gonna get smacked). "Because you had every intention of one day leaving me to run off and join the army!" she cries, her voice shaking.

"Air Force." he corrects quietly.

"Whatever!"

He idly tosses aside his controller and gets to his feet. "I'm not leaving you, Quinn. Jesus. I don't even know what the fuck I want to do."

"Is that why you're pushing me to go home? Because you want to enlist?" she demands, trying desperately to figure out him out.

"Of course not. I just want what's best for you." He groans loudly because fuck, he feels like he's repeating himself here and she knows he's not the most eloquent speaker. "If your mom's your ticket into getting into your dream school, then I'd be a selfish turd if I didn't tell you to take her up on it."

Quinn turns away and begins shaking her head. "With my parents there are always strings attached. God even knows what my father thinks of this - if he does. Hell for all I know this could be just some kind of ruse Biff cooked up…"

"Well you should at least find out what their deal is, right? I mean if it turns out they want you to marry Biff and perform a ritual sacrifice with a sheep in exchange for paying for school, then just tell them to fuck off."

He's making sense right? Cause it feels like he is.

She looks at him expectantly. "And what if they mean what they say?"

"Then you gotta do what you feel is right for you." he says simply.

She turns away again, but this time he's able to catch sight of the tears that escape her eyes. "Why would you ruin everything like this?" she asks him, her voice barely audible.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She blinks a few times, swallowing hard, then finally looks at him. "Why couldn't you just tell me to blow off Biff and my parents? Why couldn't we just sit here and drink beer, play your stupid games, and pretend like this night never happened? Why did you have to ruin things?" She sounds so broken all of a sudden and before Puck can even begin to try to come up with a response, she's storming out of his trailer.

He runs after her without thinking. "Quinn, wait!"

"Biff's flying to New Haven tomorrow." she informs him, walking quickly. "To attend a charity event. He suggested I join him and go see my family. Since you want me gone apparently I'll be taking him up on his offer."

Now Puck's beginning to remember why he never wanted a girlfriend before. Girls were fuckin' _insane_.

"Fine then!" he bellows. He stops chasing after her. Instead he just waves her off and turns on his heel, grumbling all the way back to his trailer on how insane he was to ever get mixed up with a nutsy cuckoo dame like her.

Frustrated, he plops himself down on his couch and stares at the frozen television screen. He spends about five seconds in that position before bolting upright and roughly pushing his way out the door.

Nutsy cuckoo or not, she was his. And he was hers.

And he sure as hell wasn't gonna let her go that easily.

—

When he reaches her trailer, he doesn't even bother with knocking.

"I'm going with you." he declares, inviting himself inside.

He catches her in the middle of packing. Quinn spins around, caught of guard by his presence. "What?"

"I'm going with you." he repeats just as assertively. "I'm your fuckin' boyfriend and I'm supposed to always have your back, even when you're being a fuckin' insecure nutcase like you are now. You think there's nothing out there for you but there is. You just can't see it yet. So I don't care if you're pissed at me just cause you're scared of leading a life away from what you know. You're my Peach goddamnit and I'm not gonna let this break us. We're going to New Haven and you're gonna talk to your parents and find out if this college offer is legit. Got it?"

He has no intention of backing down, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a small part of him fearful for his life right now - after all the look she's giving him could go a million different ways, half of them not even remotely positive.

He waits for some kind of response out of her, but Quinn just stares quietly at him. It was unnerving as fuck.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he continues a little less forcefully than before, "So you call up Johnny Appleseed and tell him that Puckzilla's tagging along whether he likes it or not."

He just needed to fill that damn void left by her silence. He was no good with -

His train of thought is derailed when Quinn suddenly throws her arms around his neck and holds on, well more like _clings_, to him.

Puck raises his brow, surprised. "Uh…" He wraps his arms around her automatically, but doesn't know what to say considering he has no idea what was happening. Sure this was better than her yelling at him, or smacking him upside the head, but still…what the hell?

When she finally pulls away and enables him to meet her gaze, he just stares at her and shakes his head. "You're strange, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, Noah." she sighs, apologizing. She lowers her eyes briefly, guiltily. "You were right. I lashed out at you because I was scared. Things were going so good for us and I freaked out when you started talking about wanting to get out of here because I didn't want things to change, and my mind just started jumping to all these assumptions, that the reason you wanted things to change was because you were tired of us…of me."

Puck sighs. "Babe, the day I get tired of you is the day I get tired of Super Mario Bros or the day you get tired of bacon, which is _never_ gonna happen." He smirks because yeah, he totally got a small smile outta her just then.

"I just…thinking about the future terrifies me." she admits quietly. "Always has. Growing up I always had my parents breathing down my neck, putting all this pressure on me to make something of myself, something great. But now that I'm here I don't really worry about it, that's why I like being apart of a troupe. I can just do what I'm good at, not have anyone pressure me or stress me out, and bask in the praise I receive from the audience night after night. Easy. Simple." Puck nods in understanding.

She turns around and plops down on her couch. He joins her. She props her hand up on the armrest and slides her hand over her hair. "But I'm not challenging myself, or at least not anymore. And you're right about another thing. I don't want to spend the rest of my life traveling around with the circus."

"What do you want?" he asks gently.

She doesn't respond right away; instead she pushes herself upright and sits down on his lap. "All I'm really sure of what I want right now is you." she confesses, shyly meeting his gaze.

Puck feels himself perk up at her words. "Yeah?"

Quinn smiles softly, her eyes conveying deep affection for him. "You're special." she nods, idly running a gently hand over his head. "A lot more than I realize sometimes."

He grins. He's been called a lot of things in his life but 'special' wasn't one. Truthfully if anyone had tried to call him 'special' he would've thought it was super gay, but coming from Quinn it makes him feel…awesome.

"But I'm still an egghead, right?" he asks lightly.

"Yeah." she giggles, lightly bumping her nose against his. "But you're _my_ egghead." she affirms with a grin.

Fine by him.

Smirking, Puck leans in and captures her lips with his.

—

They stay up the rest of the night and hang out on top of her trailer like they occasionally do, talking when they have something to say, lying down in a contented silence when they don't. They gaze up at the stars for as long as they can see them, then when daylight breaks, they sit up to watch the sunrise.

Watching the flag on the Big Top flutter in the distance, Puck throws out absent-mindedly, "So I guess we're not going to New Haven to see your folks?"

He glances over at her in time to see her shake her head. "No need. I mean I have every intention of talking to them but…that's what telephones are for, right? Besides I'd rather not spend anymore amount of time in the same vicinity as Biff than I already have."

Puck nods in understanding. "Yeah I probably just would've ended up kicking his ass anyways." he admits.

She looks back at him, incredulous.

"What?" He raises his shoulders innocently. "The guy's a total dick."

Quinn just shakes her head and allows her gaze to revert forward. Her smile does not go unnoticed by him.

Together they bask in the early morning peace in silence. After awhile he feels her eyes fall on him. "If the Air Force is what you want to do, then I'll support you a hundred percent." she tells him softly. She shrugs briefly at the flicker of surprise that crosses his eyes. "Just wanted you to know."

"It won't be easy." he feels the need to say. "Especially when you have your own career or school..."

Quinn shakes her head like it doesn't matter. "I'd rather do hard with you than easy with someone else."

Puck stares at her in awe because this isn't all in his head, she's not just something he dreamed up, this - what they had - is real. And he was just so fuckin' lucky. And grateful.

There was no way he was gonna ever let this girl go. Like ever.

"That means a lot." he says truthfully. "But I'm not going anywhere just yet." he gently reminds, sensing her apprehension. "I mean who says we have to make any life changing decisions right now? We're still so fuckin' young. We can do whatever the fuck we want." That's when the light bulb comes on. He turns to her expectantly, excitedly. "What's a place you've never been to but always wanted to go?"

Quinn thinks about it for a second. "Memphis." she nods, then adds a little more brightly, "And I've always wanted to go to New Orleans."

Puck throws up his hands like that settles it. "Then let's go!"

"What?" she laughs shortly. "Noah we can't just leave."

"Why not? I've got money saved up. I know you do too."

"We have contracts." she reminds, shaking her head at him. "What about the troupe?"

"Burt will understand." he says easily, waving it off. "I mean he's got more than enough talent to go around here. He won't miss us."

"Maybe he won't miss _you_."

"Hey!" He playfully glares at her for that jab and tickles her side. "C'mon, what do you say? You in?"

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" she realizes.

"Hell yeah." he nods enthusiastically. "Just think of how much fun we'd have."

"You know most people run away to the circus. Not _from_ it."

"Yeah well you and I are not _most people_. We're awesome. We're epic. We are badass motherfu-"

"Okay, I get it." she laughs, cutting him off with a mildly reproachful stare. She drops her hand and sighs. "Loving you must have made me crazy, Puckerman." Puck grins, liking where this was headed. "Because otherwise I would not even be considering doing this."

"Don't act like you don't think this is a fucking awesome idea, Fabray." he smiles knowingly. He leans across and pecks her lips. As he pulls back, he raises his brow at her, a sudden thought coming to mind. "Hey you think they have shawarma down in the south?"

Her brow knits together. "Do you even know what shawarma is?" she asks, a light laugh escaping her.

He shakes his head. "No. But if it's good enough for Iron Man, it's good enough for the Puckster." he smirks.

She rolls her eyes at him and opens her mouth, _you're an egghead _on the tip of her tongue, but he swallows the words with another, deeper, kiss.

It's like one of those picture perfect moments, Puck thinks as he's kissing her, as she's kissing him, like the kind you see in the movies…except nowhere near as lame. Instead it's awesome.

_Fucking_ awesome.

Just like they were together.

* * *

**AN: The end.**

**Thanks for reading and hopefully you'll drop a review before you go!**


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